


Powdered Freckles

by Anonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Crossdressing, Don't copy to another site, Drug Use, M/M, Overdosing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-06-17
Updated: 2004-06-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:41:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22852648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Ron just can't seem to say no.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Ron Weasley
Kudos: 10
Collections: Anonymous





	Powdered Freckles

**Author's Note:**

> Very angsty and based off of Nickelback's Figured You Out.

“Weasley, haven’t you had enough?”

“Oh, come on, Draco, he’s just having a bit of fun.”

“Yeah, Malfoy, I’m just having some fun.”

“Fine,” Draco sighs and walks off, heading to the bar to grab another drink. 

Pansy smiles – or maybe smirks – down at Ron, sitting on the floor in front of the mirror-top coffee table. His pupils dilated and white powder on the edge of his nose, sniffling as he finishes up another line of coke. Draco returns and wipes the powder off, rubbing it on his gums before stealing a kiss from the freckled boy. 

Pansy Parkinson has taken to throwing grand parties out of her parents’ estate in Buenos Aires. It’s one of many that the Parkinsons own, and the perfect place to find Muggle pleasures such as cocaine. Mostly, it has proved profitable to Pansy, as the cost of attaining the drug is much lower there than in Europe. 

While the guests at this gathering –most specifically Millicent Bulstrode, Ernie Macmillan, Zacharias Smith, and Blaise Zabini– have no problem with seeing Ron and Draco together, they can’t help but puzzle over the Weasel’s attire. As Draco leads Ron outdoors, whispers grow louder and the conversation changes from the exchange rate of Galleons to pesos to the fashion statement Ron Weasley is attempting to make by wearing a hideously short tight black dress. 

Chuckling, Ron pushes Draco against the wall, ignoring the flowers that they trampled in their wake. Mouth to collarbone, Ron suckles at his pale skin, teeth grazing sloppily as he grinds his hips against Draco’s. Hands caress sides harshly as sucking changes to biting, and Ron slowly drops to his knees. His fingers work quickly, unfastening Draco’s trousers and tugging them along with his underpants down to his ankles. Rough bricks rub against Draco’s arse as Ron takes the hard cock into his mouth, nimbly tracing the head with his tongue, bobbing up and down in a rapidly increasing rhythm, until semen drips down his throat. 

Pansy coughs, calling their attention, and Ron rises, barely wiping the dirt off his knees before approaching her. She holds out a small mirror with more lines for the taking; leaning over the mirror, Ron licks his lips before snorting three lines in quick succession. Raising his head, a slow trickle of blood flows out of his left nostril and Pansy gently dabs at it with a white handkerchief, smiling at him once more. 

Crooking her finger, she beckons for Ron and Draco to follow her into a small bedroom. Setting the mirror on the bedside table, she leaves the two in silence. Draco gently pushes Ron onto the bed, his arms and legs splayed nicely, almost limply, as Ron stares up at the ceiling, entranced. Long fingers trace the freckles along Ron’s chest before dropping down and shoving up the skirt of the dress, pulling down knickers. A muttered charm and fingers piston in and out of Ron’s arse, stretching him before being replaced by Draco’s cock. Glassy eyes gaze upwards, soft grunts filling the air as Draco thrusts harder, drawing them out into long moans. 

Ron’s cock rubs between his stomach and the dress, leaving a large off-white stain around his midriff when he comes. Draco’s balls slap against Ron’s arsecheeks as he pounds into him with vehemence. After he comes, Draco collapses atop Ron, his breath hot against his neck, a light sheen of sweat coating their mostly clothed bodies. They lay entwined for several minutes before Ron pulls away, reaching for the mirror. As he finishes off the remaining lines, Draco traces the stain on his dress murmuring something about basic cleaning charms not getting the job done. 

Dropping the mirror onto the mattress, Ron leaned against the headboard, his eyes bright and powder resting on his nose once more. His nose bled and Draco licked up the mixture of blood and cocaine. He says something about leaving, heading home and getting some sleep and Ron just nods, only getting up when Draco pulls him to his feet. 

They join the bright faces and laughter in the sitting room, where Draco drops a satchel of pesos on the table. He tells everyone goodnight and the room is filled with groans and eager enticements to stay just a little longer. Pansy smiles at Ron and pulls him close whispering something in his ear before motioning to the coffee table. 

Ron ignores the voices and drops down for one last line, which quickly changes into just one more, and now he lost count of how many he did over the course of the night. Draco grabs his arm and leads him to the door, stepping out onto the deck, and Ron loses his footing, falling to the ground, staring blankly up at the starry sky. His breath shallow and Draco drops beside him, hands encircling Ron’s neck, searching for a pulse and shaking him attempting to get him to get up. 

A slap to his cheek and Ron blinks, repeatedly whispering “please”. Draco’s eyes survey the scene; dirt on knees and coke on nose and this time Draco brushes it off in disgust. Pansy and the others come running, gathering around in time to hear Ron go silent. Panicking, tears trickling down his cheeks, Draco shakes Ron, screaming for him to “get up, get up, please get up!” Strong arms encircle his and pull him away. 

“It’s your fault! It’s all your fault! He wouldn’t if you didn’t keep offering. Why?”

Pansy raised her eyebrow and smirked. “It’s not my fault he couldn’t say no. You figure him out yet?”


End file.
